


The One You're With

by tsutsuji



Series: The One You're With [2]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Age Difference, Breathplay, Dom/sub, Kink Meme, Light Bondage, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Threesome - M/M/M, subtle angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsutsuji/pseuds/tsutsuji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinou requests Conrad Weller's services once again, but this time the task is meant to be as much a reward as a duty. For the sake of the people they love most, both Conrad and Murata have lost the chance to be with those very same people. It's time to compensate.<br/>If you can't be with the one you love....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a KKM Kink Meme request for "Conrad/Murata, blindfold, domination... Conrad on top," which doesn't happen in the prologue, but I felt compelled to write this first as the setup to make a Conrad/Murata dom/sub scene make sense. This can also be considered a follow up to "Too Much To Dream."  
> Implied one-sided Conrart/Yuuri and implied one-sided Murata/Yuuri; implied Shinou/Daikenja

Murata was not surprised to find Conrad standing on the castle wall, looking out at the dark night covering the land, with his back toward the castle where they'd left the wedding celebration in full swing. It would be winding down soon, leaving the King and his new husband free to slip away and enjoy their first night of wedded bliss.

"You thought it would never really happen," Murata said, "Or you convinced yourself you'd be happy if it did...."

From the frozen smile on Conrad's face, Murata could see that he was right; from the stiff set of the older man's shoulders as he turned away abruptly, he knew he'd said enough.

"Has it always been so obvious?" Conrad asked after a while.

"Probably not, to most people," Murata answered. He meant mostly that it was certainly not obvious to Yuuri himself, although he doubted anyone else had read so deeply into Conrad's obvious devotion to the Maou and his smiling indulgence in his younger brother's obsession with his accidental fiance. Conrad took his words in a slightly different way.

"Of course. The Great Sage always sees more clearly than the rest of us."

If he hadn't been listening closely for it, even Murata might not have recognized the soft bitterness under the calmly spoken words. He nodded, even though Conrad's back was turned to him; the gesture was to himself, anyway. Just like any other plan or strategy, no matter how clearly one could foresee the outcome, the key was recognizing the right moment to act.

He stepped toward Conrad, who turned to him with his usual warm smile firmly in place, as if it had never left his face at all.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Weller-kyo" Murata said, "I only came out here to ask you to come to the Shrine tomorrow morning," he continued, allowing his tone to fall between pleasantly casual and soft command. "There's something rather important I'd like to discuss with you, privately, if you wouldn't mind."

Conrad didn't allow his expression to change, but gave him a stiff bow in response.

"As you wish, Geika," he said.

A volley of fireworks shot up from the castle courtyard, and more joined them from the town below and then from surrounding countryside. They watched in silence for a while, listening to shouts and whistles from the grounds, the pop and bang of the fireworks echoing off the castle walls as the kingdom celebrated the marriage of their beloved king and the dawn of a new era. Then, with another brief bow, Conrad walked away, a stark silhouette against the glittering sky.

~~

Conrad thought he could measure the eras of his life by the times he'd been summoned to this Shrine and Shinou's presence - and in spite of the casual way the invitation was made, he had no doubt that was Murata Ken's true reason for seeking him out last night. The real measurement of time, however, was in the difference in his mood between those visitations. This time, he didn't have the burden of the war and Julia's death to darken his spirit, but he no longer had the brightly burning faith renewed by Yuuri's presence, which had made it so easy to accept the difficult - ultimately, impossible - path Shinou had laid out for him then.

He frowned, still, as he entered the Shrine. Neither Ulrike nor any of the other Shrine Maidens came into sight, and the place felt as empty as the tomb it really was. Only Murata was there to greet him before the door of the inner chamber, waving a hand to him and smiling as if the invitation really was to a friendly breakfast. That was hardly likely to take place in the inner sanctum of Shinou's great shrine, however.

He couldn't help wondering if this had something to do with the wedding of the day before, but there had been no hint of trouble from any quarter as far as the marriage was concerned. Everything was as settled and peaceful in the country as he had ever known or heard it to be. Even Gwendal's perpetual frown had softened almost out of sight, and Yozak complained of having little to do with himself these days. It would be disappointing, to say the least, if trouble was brewing again already, when Yuuri had finally achieved the peace and happiness he had always wanted, not only for the country but for himself.

And, Conrad thought, in spite of Murata's startlingly observant words the evening before, no one was more pleased than he was to see Yuuri happily settled at last with his utterly devoted younger brother. Truly.

But if there wasn't political trouble brewing, why else would Murata have made the invitation, seeking him out after he'd left the wedding celebration to do so in private? He had wondered at first why Yuuri's friend had left the party, but caught up in his own mixed feelings about the much-anticipated wedding, he hadn't been prepared for anyone else to either guess or care how he was feeling about it. Seeing Murata's youthful, cheerful face this morning, in such contrast to his disconcerting words last night, Conrad suddenly thought to wonder if he was not the only one who had a secret reason to regret the joyful occasion, after all.

He looked closely at Murata, remembering that his surface appearance of being just a typical schoolboy from Earth and Yuuri's close friend was not entirely a fabrication, even if that schoolboy's soul also held the age-old wisdom of the Great Sage, gathered through many lives. He knew without doubt that Murata, and Shinou's spirit as well, were as devoted to Yuuri's well being as the rest of them were, but for the first time, Conrad considered the possibility that maybe Murata's care for Yuuri also had a more personal side as well.

It was hard to tell what Murata was thinking, except that Conrad no longer doubted on any level that he was loyal to Yuuri and to Shin Makoku. What that meant for him, though, he couldn't imagine. This time, he decided, he would consider whatever task he was asked to do with a clearer mind, without either the bitterness or the blind optimism that had colored his view on the previous occasions.

With that thought, he returned Murata's smile with an easy yet formal one of his own, and followed him into the inner chamber of the Shrine. He slowed his steps along the torch-lined passage when he felt the presence of another in the room, although Murata kept walking ahead of him toward the dais and the three empty boxes. Conrad stopped completely, and Murata stopped also and turned toward him, as Shinou appeared out of the flickering shadows.

~~

Yes, Murata thought, this was definitely the moment they'd been waiting for. Shinou took a step toward Conrad, smiling in welcome, and Murata watched the soldier's dark eyes narrow slightly.

"There's something I wish to offer you, Lord Weller," Shinou said. "Something of a reward, or compensation if you care to think of it that way, for your devotion and service to the Maou."

"It's not necessary," Conrad said immediately.

He frowned, looking unsettled, but Murata was glad to see that he didn't take offense. It was exactly the response they expected of him. Shinou smiled. Standing off to the side, Murata kept his expression neutral.

"Perhaps not, but I hope you'll accept my offer when you know what it is," Shinou said. "It is meant as a reward, with the hope that you'll find pleasure in it, but it is also a request for your services once again. I would like you to act on my behalf in a certain capacity which concerns my former strategist, since my powers to do so are limited now."

He gestured to Murata, who took his cue to step in front of him and turn toward Conrad. Warily, Conrad's gaze shifted from Shinou to Murata, obviously uncertain about what he was expected to do. Murata wondered if he'd even begun to guess the truth yet.

For just a moment, Murata gave Conrad with one of his MuraKen-innocent smiles. This did nothing to lighten Conrad's expression, but it did get his full, startled attention. Then he turned to Shinou once again, who nodded and stepped back into the edge of the shadows.

Murata dropped to one knee in front of Conrad, lowered his eyes to the ground between them, and clasped his hands behind his back. He took a deep breath; not since a time long past and in another body had he taken this same position before his beloved King, and never again before any other person. Not until now.

"For all that you've lost, and all that we've asked you to sacrifice, Lord Weller," Murata began, "of course there is really nothing that can compensate - I understand that, perhaps better than you know," he added, only glancing up quickly then to make sure he saw the glitter of understanding in Conrad's narrowed eyes. "I know I'm a poor substitute for that which you've recently lost the hope of having for yourself, as well. But, on behalf of Shinou and by my own choice, I offer you ... myself."

Murata didn't count the seconds, the slow heartbeats, until Conrad spoke again, and didn't raise his eyes to see what emotions were revealed on Conrad's face. He waited, only confident in the fact that Conrad didn't walk away.

"It's not necessary," Conrad said again at last, his voice dropped to a hush that whispered off the shimmering walls. But with Conrad's fingertips lightly touching his hair, tugging a lock over his forehead, the former Great Sage knew the request and the offer had been both completely understood, and accepted.

~

(to be continued)


	2. Precarious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They agreed at the very beginning to play this game without words, allowing each other the tricks of their own minds

They begin the same way they have every time since Conrad accepted this task. Murata arrives at Conrad's door, knocks softly and enters, closes and locks the door behind himself. They greet each other casually with smiles and friendly words, as if it is not the deepest hour of night, and as if Murata has not just slunk through every shadow to get here from the temple unseen. He walks over to where Conrad sits waiting for him, and they fall silent for a moment, watching each other as if to affirm once more that they have each agreed to this.

 

"Any last minute requests, Geika?" Conrad asks with his warm, disarming smile, as if he's offering Murata a choice of treats at a picnic.

 

Murata considers the question seriously, though. It will be his last chance to ask for anything between now and dawn.

 

"Not this time, thank you, Weller-kyo," he says, shaking his head and returning the smile.

 

Then he bows his head slightly, and finally takes off his glasses - the gesture that has become the signal for the moment he becomes Conrad's.

 

The first time, he stood there awkwardly with them in his hand, unsure of where to put them, or what to do next, suddenly realizing this was the present and that he was only a Japanese schoolboy after all, and the past, no matter how vivid in his mind, could give him no guidance for this. That time, after staring at him silently for several heartbeats, Conrad gently took the glasses from his hand and set them aside. With his vision obscured and with Conrad's hands tentative but determined on him, everything else became perfectly clear.

 

This time, Conrad stands up after setting Murata's glasses on the table by the bed, and walks around behind him. Murata doesn't move except to raise his head a little, to make it easier for Conrad to place the thick, black cloth over his eyes and tie it behind his head. Instantly, his other senses seem heightened, all fully attuned to Conrad: his clean-washed scent, and the quiet rustle of clothing as he moves, and the touch of his hands drifting through Murata's hair, over his shoulders and down his back and sides, as if measuring the shape of Murata's body within the unrevealing black uniform jacket and pants.

 

Conrad leans down behind him and brushes his lips against Murata's hair; the swordsman's strong arms come around him lightly, a teasing sort of almost-hug from behind, palms sliding across his chest, and left hand falling lower to brush the front of his thighs under the hem of his uniform top.

  
Then Conrad places his hands on Murata's arms just below his shoulders. He feels hot breath on his ear, braces himself for the touch of tongue or teeth there, but instead hears a soft command.

 

"Hands behind you, Ken-chan," Conrad says, pulling his arms backward.

 

Murata complies, but squints his eyes more tightly behind the blindfold in the first real rush of anticipation. He is not surprised to feel another length of fabric wrapped and tied securely around his wrists.

 

"Not too tight, is it, Ken-chan?" Conrad asks, his voice lilting as if he must be smiling.

 

"Not at all, thank you, Weller-dono," Murata says, trying to keep his voice light, but he's sure Conrad is observant enough to notice that it's already a little shaky with the first flush of arousal.

 

Conrad pulls away, and in the dark, Murata waits.

 

~~

 

Sometime not much later, Murata has discovered that it is not at all easy to balance on tiptoe in stocking feet, with one's hands tied behind one's back, and blindfolded besides.

 

Conrad stands directly in front of him with one finger under his chin to coax him up, but that's not enough to support or steady Murata in this position. He guesses that Conrad is leaning down toward him, but only slightly, and he knows he's supposed to try to reach up and find Conrad's mouth with his, blindly, by feel and sound, without toppling over. Conrad stays still, waiting for him. Murata feels his way up and forward awkwardly, following the feathery touch of hot breath on his face, and barely, barely touches Conrad's lips with his. Conrad teases him, holding back just out of reach, keeping him in place with that one single fingertip, until Murata grunts a little in frustration.

 

Murata feels Conrad's lips curve in a smile when he finally lets him make full contact, after that revealing sound escapes him. Wobbling a little, he tries to clasp onto Conrad's lips with his own, partly because he wants the touch by now, badly, but also for balance.

 

Conrad responds by biting his lip, then sucking it in hard, making Murata whimper with even greater need as the sudden sensation goes right to his groin. That doesn't help him balance any better, though, and he wobbles more on the balls of his feet and tries to clamp onto Conrad's mouth harder, the only real point of contact between them - knowing it's a bad idea even as he does it.

 

Conrad lets him get away with it for a second, makes a little disapproving sound, then suddenly moves his hand, grabbing Murata by the throat instead. Fingertip and thumb press up under his jaw, forcing his head up higher and making his blood pound in his ears. He's still on his toes, though, still has to try to keep his own balance, knowing there's nothing behind him and if Conrad lets him go suddenly he'll fall - and he still wants the kiss, and more.

 

With his other hand, Conrad opens his uniform top and reaches inside, quickly finding and twisting a nipple, sharp enough to bring tears to Murata's eyes under the blindfold and make him whimper again. This loosens his grip on Conrad's mouth, and Conrad takes advantage of this by thrusting his tongue inside, hard and deep, teeth and lips bruising Murata's lips. Just when Murata recovers enough to start sucking on the invading tongue, Conrad pulls away and, still holding him up on tiptoe precariously, turns to kissing and biting his jaw and face and lips, leaving Murata gasping.

 

The pressure on his throat makes his head swim, making it even harder to keep his own balance. He struggles against the bonds on his wrists in spite of himself, instinctively trying to throw his arms out to steady himself. Conrad must feel or see his struggle and laughs softly, a cool, velvety sound in Murata's blind darkness. The hand under his jaw hurts and the blood rushes in his ears, Conrad pinches his nipple harder, but the worst agony is how hard he is and how he can't do anything about it.

 

Just before things start to fade to black from lack of blood and air to his brain, Conrad's grip loosens and begins caressing his throat instead. This allows him to drop a little so that he's solidly on the balls of his feet again, but he totters, and this time Conrad steadies him in place, holding him there. The hand on his chest shifts, too, spreading over his body, slipping around under the jacket, falling lower to clutch around his ribs and the point of his hip. Instinctively he pushes upward against it even though this threatens his balance again. He moans, quite consciously this time, recklessly revealing his desperation even though he knows it might do more harm than good, and might get him less of what he wants rather than more.

 

 

Conrad, on the other hand, can barely suppress the shudders that rise up from the base of his spine, and barely holds back on the sharp, white hot desire that courses through him from the feeling of having Murata's body pliant in his hands like this, and at the sight of the boy struggling and still lurching toward him, need revealed in every movement and sound. He presses his face and lips to dark hair damp from the exertion of merely staying upright, rubs his rough cheek against the boy's soft face, and laps at his throat.

 

He didn't know he could do this, doubted the wisdom of his own choice when Shinou gave him this task, and didn't understand how it could be a reward as well, but he has thought many times since then that, as he once said, the Great Sage sees what others miss. Murata, at least, must have seen this need building inside of him, when he thought he had even hidden it from himself.

 

Conrad grips his right hand in Murata's thick black hair, ignoring the fact that the texture and curl of it is different than what his hand anticipated and desired. He breathes in the scent of Murata's skin, clean and salty, exotic with flavors from the other world where he was born. With his left hand, he tugs and bunches the black uniform jacket and the slim, young body beneath it, and then reaches lower.

 

Murata's hardness fits so nicely into his hand, pressed through layers of restricting fabric, and the sound Murata makes is so desperate and pleading it makes his throat hurt. He doesn't wonder if Murata is thinking of the memory of another hand claiming him in the same way, just Murata does not have to wonder if Conrad thinking of another body all dressed in black, as young and slim but slightly more athletic, that he would touch this way if he could.

 

 

Murata stumbles, trying to spread his legs a little, blindly and desperately encouraging the groping hand even though he can barely hope to stay upright on his toes if he does so. He's held up now only by Conrad's right hand in his hair at the back of his neck, pulling his head back, and by the swordsman's left hand maddeningly squeezing his cock and balls through his pants. He wants to scream, but he hasn't even been told to beg yet, so all he can do is gasp and make wordless sounds and squirm helplessly. There's no point hiding his need, after all. He can only sense dimly and hopefully, through the hint of a tremor in Conrad's touch and through his heightened sense of smell and taste and by the rough sound of rasping breath in his ear, that Conrad must be as intensely aroused as he is.

 

They agreed without speaking of it, at the very beginning, to play this game without words, allowing each other the tricks of their own minds; so Murata always wears his school uniform, but never calls out Conrad's name in the soft voice and foreign accent that he knows would echo the one in Conrad's imagination; Conrad always fondles and possesses him, always most intimately with his left hand, but never makes the soft commands that he knows Murata remembers from a life long past. So now, Murata does his best not to cry out a name in some ancient form of speech when Conrad finally, finally wraps his right arm around his body and steadies him, then opens his trousers and thrusts his other hand inside.

 

Somewhere along the way, Conrad had dropped to his knees, and now presses Murata's whole body to himself, murmuring against his skin, licking and nibbling where his fingers pinched before, twirling a blindingly sensitive nipple between teeth and tongue. Murata gasps, and almost begs then with Conrad's hand stroking him so slowly and steady; it's not nearly enough to answer the fire building at the base of his cock.

 

"Do you want to come now?" Conrad asks, lips feathering the skin below his ear. "Or later, on your back with me inside you?"

 

"Now!" Murata cries before he thinks, undone by the soft voice and the words and the simple permission to speak. He feels Conrad's smile just before his hand tightens and speeds up. It's too late to wish he'd waited instead.

 

The black darkness behind the blindfold turns to a burst of white, and for just one moment, all the memories and desires of the past disappear along with the present into a timeless wave of sweet release. Then gradually he's aware again, of Conrad's strong arm and body wrapped around his, of Conrad's hand wet and sticky on his thigh, and of cooler air almost welcome on his exposed and overheated skin.

 

Conrad gives him a moment to breathe, ear pressed against his chest to listen to his racing heart. When it starts to slow toward normal, he reaches behind Murata and twists the bonds holding on his wrists, and at the same time licks his collarbone. In an instant, the fire in Murata's over-eager adolescent body is lit again. He'll be hard enough to come again by the time Conrad lays him down on the floor and spreads his legs and fucks him, he realizes with a rueful smile. He already made his choice, though, and if there's one thing Captain Weller knows, it's the art of restraint, which he practices as well on another body as he does within himself. It wasn't the wrong choice, though; Conrad knew this, which must have been the real reason for his smile a moment ago.

 

It only means he'll have something more than the detailed story of the encounter to take back to the temple and offer to Shinou later.

 

~~The end~~


	3. Suspicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Yozak is a little too observant for his own comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written (6/15/08), originally posted on the LJ KKM community. sagemuraken is to blame for planting the idea for MuraKen's flashback in my brain, with her scorching hot fic "Insatiable."

Long before the Maou's wedding, Yozak had watched Conrad's frozen smile become more and more brittle, even though it appeared as warm as ever to everyone else. He figured he was the only one in the room who saw the pain dammed up behind the brown, gentle eyes that lovingly watched Yuuri walk down the ceremonial aisle. After the celebrations wound down, Yozak kept watching and waiting for the ice to either thaw or crack, just the way he'd watched in the days after Conrad returned from Big Shimaron. He'd been there when it shattered that time, finally, and if all he could ever do was be there trying to hold some of the pieces together, then he would be, just like he always had been - even if he got a bit cut up by the jagged edges in the process.

 

This time, he slowly realized, something else was going on behind that pleasant mask. Weeks after the wedding, when things had settled to what passed for normal around the Maou, the warmth seemed to have returned to Conrad's smile, especially around Yuuri--who, bless his blind, innocent heart, had never noticed the change at all. It was a good thing Yuuri-heika was so forgivable, or Yozak thought he might have had to hate him for that.

 

He wasn't entirely convinced the change in Conrad was complete, though. He remembered another time when Conrad's smile had been unnaturally clear and steady, when his loyalty and love for the Maou poured out in his gaze and in his voice but seemed to come from a hollow distance, and behind all that love was ice and steel as he turned away from Yuuri and returned to his father's homeland. Even knowing the true cause of it now, that smile in the midst of betrayal was one of the most painful things Yozak had ever seen, and that, all things considered, was a heck of a lot of pain.

 

He hoped like hell he was wrong, but life was a little too perfect these days, and Yozak Guirer had never had much trust in things that came too easy. He couldn't help but watch for signs that something was about to go horribly wrong.

 

Even so, he didn't think it was a sign of anything going badly when he happened to notice the young incarnation of the Great Sage leaving the castle one morning, just before the first faint streaks of light appeared in the sky. Murata, he knew by now, was secretive by nature, and with good reason given all that Yozak knew of his unnaturally lengthy history, so he was no more than mildly curious about what might have brought the boy to the castle so early in the morning, alone. He never would have connected that with his other worries at all, until his casual comment about it a few days later brought the ice and steel back to Conrad's smile.

 

"I'm sure it's nothing important," Conrad said. But he waited, it seemed, until Yozak shrugged and agreed that it probably meant nothing, before he relaxed again. They talked of other things for a while, and after Conrad walked away, Yozak stood there by the stables where they'd met in passing, and felt like winter had suddenly arrived early and hard.

 

He didn't close his eyes and let the sense of dread take over until Conrad was well out of sight. The realization that Shinou's Great Sage had something to do with the icy strain in Conrad's manner seemed to answer all his fears. The last time Conrad Weller had secret dealings with folks at the Shrine of Shinou, a lot of people had ended up hurt -- himself not least of all.

 

Later that evening, from his usual vantage point high up on the castle roof, he watched with no surprise and a sinking heart when Conrad, cloaked and hooded to blend into the twilight, left the castle by one of the hidden doors few knew of, and headed for Shinou's sanctuary.

 

"I keep forgetting not to trust you, Geika," he muttered sadly. "Conrad... What do they want from you this time? Blood and bone, or maybe just your soul this time?"

 

There was only one sure way to find out. He dropped silently from his hiding place and slipped into the shadows.

 

~~

 

Conrad hoped to find Murata as soon as he got to the Shrine, but he was only met by one of the female guards, who acknowledged his permission to enter with a bow and then left him alone before the inner sanctuary. As soon as he entered, the door closed behind him and Shinou stepped out of the rippling shadows. Murata wasn't there.

 

"Is there a problem, Weller-kyo?" Shinou asked pleasantly. "Daikenja has given me very positive reports of your participation; in his view of things, everything is going exactly as we hoped. However, you seem concerned about something. Haven't you been enjoying the task as much as you led him to believe you were?"

 

Conrad bowed his head briefly; he had assumed Murata would describe their encounters to Shinou, but he didn't think he wanted to know exactly what had been said.

 

"I - have no complaints, Shinou-heika," he said. That was a very polite understatement, in fact; if anything, he sometimes felt he was enjoying the task of dominating Murata far too much, but he decided not to say so, as long as Murata was pleased with the results.

 

"My only concern is that Murata's visits to the castle might have been observed, and that could raise awkward questions," he continued. "I assume neither of you want this arrangement to become public knowledge?"

 

Shinou's smile widened in a way that alarmed Conrad, a look of cunning, or mischief even, that made him wonder if the spirit would find it amusing to let the secret out. That was not something he would have agreed to, even at the start, and far less so now that he understood his role better.

 

"Not public knowledge, certainly," Shinou said, to Conrad's relief. "However..."

 

Shinou raised his head and gestured past Conrad toward the entrance to the sanctuary. The door swung open.

 

"However, I think persistence and loyalty should be rewarded," Shinou continued, with a little wave of his hand. "Please come in and join us, since you've managed to get past my guards with your usual skill!"

 

Conrad stared; he'd expected Murata to appear on the other side of the door, but at first there was no one. Then, just as Shinou's words sank in, a face peered around the corner. Blue eyes glittered at him from the doorway, and a dark, hooded cloak covering bright auburn hair was the only attempt at a disguise.

 

Conrad clenched his fists; he felt like an idiot. He'd made sure he wasn't seen leaving the castle, but of course, the one person in the world who could have followed him without his knowing it was Yozak.

 

~~~

 

_Shit - It's Shinou-heika himself!_ was Yozak's first frantic thought when the voice summoned him through the unexpectedly opened door. _Suppose I should've expected that, though, considering it's his shrine and all._

 

Keeping half an eye on Conrad and the ghostly king, he glanced around the room, quickly making certain that Murata wasn't lurking in a dark corner. Finding that Conrad had come straight to Shinou rather than the Sage didn't reassure him any about whatever had brought that chill back to Conrad's eyes.

 

Well, he came here to find out what was going on, and it looked like he was going to now, whether he wanted to know or not. With a shrug, he stepped around the corner and entered the room. The sight of the Original King standing there just as large and bright as life itself put his hair on end, but he bowed low, and then crossed his arms and stood at ease, as casually as he dared. Conrad's eyes narrowed, in disapproval for his manners as much as his mere presence, probably, but Shinou smiled.

 

"Sorry, _taichou_ ," Yozak said without much hint of apology. He tipped his head and grinned. "What can I say - I was bored, so when I spotted you leaving the castle I thought I'd use the opportunity to practice my tracking skills?"

 

Conrad glared, but Shinou laughed softly.

 

"Your concern for Weller-kyo is both obvious and commendable, and I acknowledge being to blame for it both now and in the past," Shinou said. "Let me assure you, first of all, that my dealing with your captain offers no threat to him in life or limb -- nor to Yuuri-heika, if that is also what you're thinking. No one is in any danger here."

 

"Good to know," Yozak said with another shrug, as if the thought had never entered his mind.

 

_Maybe that's true,_ he thought, _but something strange is going on here. Something's not right with the captain, anyway._ That much he was certain of; Conrad's fists were clenched at his side and his mouth was set in a tight line. Shinou, however, was still smiling.

 

"I'd like to set your mind completely at rest," the spirit said. "We're well aware of your loyalty, both to the captain and to my kingdom, and of your service to Yuuri-heika. Perhaps it would suit you to share in the reward I've offered Weller-kyo?"

 

Conrad jumped as if he'd been stung.

 

"If he has no objection, that is?" Shinou finished smoothly.

 

Yozak's eyes narrowed, unsuccessfully trying to hide his curiosity at these unexpected and cryptic words. _Reward_? he wondered, searching for irony in the way Shinou had said the word, but if there was any he'd missed it.

 

Conrad jerked his head around to stare at Shinou; obviously, he wasn't expecting this either. The spirit only appeared amused by his reaction.

 

"Would you mind so much, including Gurier in our arrangement?" he asked Conrad. "Considering your friendship with him, I thought it would work out nicely for both of you. Also, perhaps you should know that if you had decided not to accept our offer in the first place, he was Daikenja's only other choice."

 

"Yozak was?" Conrad burst out, startled, but a second later his expression changed. "On second thought, I can well imagine he would be. In fact, I'm surprised Murata didn't chose him over me to begin with."

 

He turned to regard Yozak again, and slowly, wondrously, the ice melted; brown eyes softened and his mouth relaxed, curling upward gently at the corners. It was barely a ghost of a smile, but it was the first genuine one Yozak had seen on his face in ages. They were still in Shinou's shrine, cool with shadows and the rippling of mystical water, but the sudden warmth in Conrad's gaze made him feel like he was being welcomed home.

 

It occurred to him that, whatever "reward" Conrad had been asked to take on, he might just be glad beyond words to have someone to share it with after all. That only made him even more nervous.

 

"I would...welcome that addition," Conrad said slowly, speaking to Shinou but still looking toward Yozak. "Very much, in fact - if Yozak will agree."

 

They were both staring at him now, and Shinou's smile seemed to glitter in the wavering light.

 

Yozak shifted uncomfortably. _Now what have I gotten myself into?_ he wondered.

 

Murata would have chosen him instead - for what? He couldn't imagine from their expressions or their words, and half wished he'd never asked. Curiosity would not let him turn away now, though, if the look in Conrad's eyes wasn't already enough to seal his doom.

 

Yozak sighed loudly. He wasn't buying Shinou's "reward" on any faith, but he had a feeling that, whatever it was, if both Conrad and Murata wanted him to do it, there wasn't much chance he could refuse anyway.

 

"Guess you better tell me what it is I'm supposed to be agreeing to," he said.

 

~~

 

Murata glared when Shinou appeared in his room, unannounced and uninvited but not, really, unexpected. It had been several weeks since he'd received another summons from Conrad, long enough that he'd begun to wonder if Conrad had decided not to continue. Shinou was obviously amused by his concern, and even more so by his relief and excitement now that the message had finally arrived. The spirit leaned back against the wall and watched while Murata paced back and forth across his room, waiting for the time Conrad had specified.

 

"Youth has made you far less patient than the Daikenja I remember," Shinou teased. "In fact, Weller-kyo's reserve is more reminiscent of the sage who could hold out on me almost indefinitely. The one who frequently reminded me that waiting could add to the anticipation, and ultimately, the pleasure of an encounter."

 

Murata grimaced at him.

 

"This is your doing, isn't it?" he asked, suddenly very suspicious.

 

"You think I told Weller-kyo to make you wait? I assure you, this delay was not my idea! But I am looking forward to hearing all about the result."

 

He moved closer, drifting near enough that Murata felt the ghostly-soft brush of his mantle, and would have felt Shinou's breath stir his hair, if there was any breath to feel.

 

"In every luscious detail," Shinou added, bending closer.

 

Murata nodded slightly and swallowed hard. Damn, but Shinou was right; he used to have far more control than this! Ah, the joy and frustration of being young again, he thought. The memories and knowledge of the ages filled his head, but his teenage body still had a one-track mind of its own.

 

Beyond that, he missed Conrad's touch far more than he liked to admit.

 

"Yes," he sighed, turning his face to nuzzle against Shinou's ghostly shoulder. "Of course. Every detail."

 

~~

 

Hours later, he entered Conrad's chamber, already half-aroused by the simple act of getting here. He walked over to where Conrad sat waiting on the bed, embarrassed to find that he was already trembling with anticipation. Stilling his nerves with an effort, he greeted Conrad with their usual brief banter as he handed over his glasses, and then fell silent while Conrad placed the blindfold on him and bound his hands behind his back.

 

The tension, he thought, was so tight in the air it should have snapped when Conrad touched him. His breath caught when Conrad simply took his shoulders to turn him around to face him again, and then it left him entirely in a rush as Conrad pulled him closer and trapped him between his knees, and immediately pulled his head up for a hard, deep kiss.

 

There was none of the teasing, maddeningly slow buildup he'd come to expect. Murata gasped into Conrad's mouth, surprised, startled even, by the rough, quick hands going right to his groin, groping his rapidly swelling arousal through his uniform. In seconds his head was spinning; he jerked forward, trying to thrust against Conrad, already losing control of himself. Conrad held him off roughly, kissing hot trails down his chin and throat, then pressed fingers to his lips which Murata immediately began to suck on, moaning at the mere suggestion of it. He knew he was ready to drop to his knees the moment Conrad's hand released him.

 

He was not released; the relentless stimulation continued, the hands, tongue, and lips raced hot and eager over his skin. Conrad's patience and self-restraint had always seemed infinite, but the delay since their last time together must have fed the older man's hunger as well. Murata wondered again if it had been planned this way just for that reason, but it didn't really matter; all he knew was that his own control was already close to shattering completely.

 

With his mind reeling and with the deafening roar of blood rushing in his ears, it took Murata a few seconds to notice a change in the air of the room. Murkily, he sensed movement somewhere behind him and caught a scent, something other than that of his own and Conrad's arousal, vaguely familiar to his muzzy senses; an earthy, male scent with a distinct touch of - _perfume_?

 

His eyes flew wide open, useless behind the blindfold, but his other senses came into sudden sharp focus when he heard the soft rustle of clothing behind him. He jumped and barely choked back a cry of surprise when he felt another hand tighten on the back of his neck. It couldn't be Conrad's; one of his gripped Murata's chin and the other firmly cupped his crotch. Pressed against his back, he felt - his mind struggled to comprehend it - the glide of silk, the feathery touch of ruffles and lace, and behind them the familiar weight of solid muscle.

 

Conrad's mouth caught his again before he could break the rule of silence and question this. Frantic and confused, he felt Conrad's lips curve in a smile. A voice behind him chuckled softly.

 

It finally penetrated his overheated brain that Conrad's rapid assault on his senses was a distraction to hide the presence of the newcomer; this was planned from the start. Relief and a melting wave of heat washed over him when a large hand, familiar by touch and scent, slipped over his face, and fingers prodded between Conrad's lips and his for him to suck on, briefly, before they were pulled away again with a sharp intake of breath. Something tugged on the fabric covering his eyes, and then the hand moved up to replace the blindfold instead.

 

"Guess who, Geika!"

 

The familiar, throaty voice in his ear was a little thicker than usual but still unmistakable. Murata whined, unable to speak through Conrad's smothering kiss, and jerked in their grasp. Finally, Conrad released his mouth and pushed him back a little. He felt more than heard Conrad's rare, almost silent laughter.

 

"Yozak?!" He heard his own voice squeak in surprise, breathy with excitement, and it leaped up to an even higher note at the end when Conrad's warning pinch to his nipple reminded him that he was not supposed to speak.

 

The hand fell away from Murata's eyes, and he blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his blurry vision. He was nearly as amazed by the grin and the heat in Conrad's gaze as he was by the sight of Yozak slipping around to stand in front of him next to the bed. The redheaded spy grinned and winked, twirling the blindfold in his hand with a flourish. As shocked as Murata was to see him there, he was not in the least surprised to discover that Yozak had, of course, dressed for the occasion.

 

He'd outdone himself, Murata thought, gazing in wonder from the glittering two-inch-heels to the white silk ribbon wound through hair that gleamed like red gold in the candlelight. A pure white corset of silk and lace, lace garters, stockings, and sleeves, were all fastened with ribbons just waiting to be untied and stripped away by eager hands. It wasn't a disguise, in spite of a little eyeshadow and rouge; as frilly as it was, the shape-defining silk and lace only accentuated the muscular curves of Yozak's body in the most enticing way possible.

 

Most striking of all, and far more arousing than all the fetish wear in the world as far as Murata was concerned, was the way Yozak's blue eyes gleamed with heat as he took in Murata's flushed face, his slightly bowed head and bound hands, and Conrad's hand between his thighs. The wink was as innocently flirtatious as ever, but then Yozak's tongue slipped out to lick his lips hungrily, and the sight of that sent a shaft of heat through Murata's body.

 

Yozak had looked at first like he might crack up with laughter up at the look on Murata's face, but then the jaunty grin gave way to a more warm and gentle smile. Sword-calloused fingers touched his face again. He was still smiling, but his eyes were serious, watching for Murata's reaction.

 

Murata half wanted to laugh out loud himself, but through his shock and the arousal clouding his mind, doubt suddenly took over. He turned toward Conrad, questioning this sudden addition to their arrangement with a scowl. In answer, Conrad nodded, but Yozak spoke up first.

 

"I was feeling left out, you know," he said with an exaggerated pout, "but Shinou-heika seemed to think you wouldn't mind if I joined in. You don't mind, do you, Geika?"

 

His voice was teasing, but, under the circumstances, it was also utterly suggestive, as was the fingertip that outlined his lips. Murata's eyes and mind went a little unfocused, both from their hands moving on him and from the realization that Shinou had sanctioned this. He had no idea how it happened or what they might have said to get Yozak to agree to this, but somehow, Shinou had now offered him to Yozak as well, and both he and Conrad had accepted.

 

It finally sank in to Murata's brain just what was happening here, and what was going to happen.

 

He shook his head, conveying that he didn't mind - in case they were really worried that he might. Shinou knew he wouldn't object. In fact, Murata finally realized,, Shinou had known that Yozak would be here tonight, but Murata had been so anxious and eager earlier that he never caught a hint of it.

 

Oh, Shinou-heika would definitely be getting a full description of this when it was over - and then some.

 

Conrad still sat on the bed with his arm around Murata's waist, hand at the small of his back and pressing lower, pulling him in between his knees. Yozak's fingers wandered over Murata's face, brushing his lips. He melted a little into their touch, and saw Yozak's expression change. His eyes still glittered but he became thoughtful.

 

"Eh... looks like it was the truth!" Yozak murmured. He sounded surprised, but Conrad was obviously not surprised at all.

 

Yozak bent one knee up on the bed and sidled closer to Conrad, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Stealing glances at Murata, he bent down, and Conrad, also watching Murata out of the corner of his eye, leaned up toward him.

 

"Well then, in that case," Yozak murmured, just before his lips touched Conrad's.

 

Trapped by Conrad's arm around his waist, and wedged in between Conrad's knees and with Yozak's hip brushing against him, Murata watched. He had no choice, but that wasn't just because he was too close to them to look at anything else. Their kiss was deep, wet and hot; their tongues, lips and breath wound together with an easy familiarity, but as it went on, Murata also sensed a heightened, banked urgency in their motions, as if something was held at bay between them.

 

Murata's heart pounded and heat gathered under Conrad's slowly moving hand on him, All of their attention was focused on tasting and feeling each other, both tentative and eager, as if they'd been waiting for this chance without knowing it. If it wasn't for their hands still touching him, he would have thought they'd forgotten he was there.

 

A vivid, heated memory leaked into the present, a vision from the Daikenja's life layered over the present scene: the delicious torment of watching his king take Lawrence Weller in a kiss as hungry as this, but with his blue eyes locked on Daikenja's the entire time. He remembered the erotic rush of watching his beloved king with another lover, their bodies entwined and gleaming in the torchlight; of sometimes being "forced" to watch in submission, but at other times, directing the others who made love to their leader, inciting them to do what he wished to see done, and using all he knew to pleasure his lord to the point of begging Daikenja to grant him release.

 

He almost forgot to breathe. He must have made some kind of sound without even realizing it, because Conrad's eyebrow twitched. Time seemed to shift, past seething into the present, as Conrad and Yozak each in turn stole a sideways glance at him.

 

"Guess Shinou-heika wasn't exaggerating," Yozak said, muttering with his lips still locked on Conrad, who made a muffled, suggestive sound of affirmation.

 

Yozak pulled back, blue eyes twinkling. Conrad's lips curved upward, but it was not his usual, gentle smile at all.

 

"Well, that's good," Yozak said, his voice sounding thick. He brought one hand up to cup Conrad's face and then slip it around behind his head. "Because I've been wanting to do _this_ for a long time now!"

 

Conrad's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't hold back when Yozak yanked him forward and into an even deeper kiss than before.

 

Suddenly, Murata realized that Shinou must have told them how Daikenja's submission included this particular sweet torture. He choked back a moan. _They were going to make him watch..._

 

With a look and a gesture, Conrad ordered him to remain still, while Yozak climbed up and knelt on the bed with him. Teasingly, they reached out to him while they undressed each other, brushing a fingertip over his hot, damp face or through his hair, trailing a knuckle down his throat or giving his thigh a quick squeeze.

 

He ached with wanting to touch them, but he couldn't reach out to them, he couldn't even move toward them. And gods knew, Shinou knew, how much he wanted to.

 

_to be continued!_

 

 


	4. The Teaser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Shinou said he intended to reward them, this was definitely not what Yozak had imagined.

Yozak half expected Conrad to feel or taste different than before, as if something must have changed in the man to make him able to do what he was doing here. Smooth skin and familiar scars under the uniform, the swordsman's body that tensed and yielded under his hands, the taste of the firm lips opening breathlessly to his insistent kiss, all were the same as ever - all the same man that he'd wanted ever since he knew what wanting someone meant. Only the eyes were different, staying hard and focused instead of falling half closed when Yozak tugged jacket and shirt aside and let his teeth graze over one bare shoulder.

 

That same, familiar wanting coiled in his gut and spread through his limbs, made his fingers desperate and clumsy, but even while he concentrated on getting Conrad's damned uniform out of the way as quickly as possible, he never forgot that Murata was watching them. It would have been impossible to ignore those black eyes following his every move, in any case, but it was as though the look Murata had given him when he first leaned down to kiss Conrad gave him permission to do exactly what he wanted to do, maybe with even more than the usual enthusiasm.

 

On top of that, he couldn't forget that they really were here for Murata. He could see that Conrad didn't let himself forget it, either. His eyes constantly turned toward the boy, watching closely for every sign, and the more desperate Murata grew, the more Conrad smiled.

 

They hadn't planned what to do beyond this point, only that it involved Murata watching the two of them doing it, but so far the plan was working perfectly. Black eyes gleamed, liquid and deep; it was obvious that Murata could not drag his gaze away from their mouths.

 

Which, as far as Yozak was concerned, was just one more good reason to keep lapping up every bit of Conrad's skin that he could reach.

 

"I always knew you were an exhibitionist, Yozak," Conrad whispered into his mouth. He tugged at the first of many ribbons while he kept his other hand firmly wedged between Murata's thighs, where the proof that this was the proper course of events was clearly outlined under the black trousers.

 

Yozak had always been good at improvising, and he knew what he wanted to do without thinking twice about it. He reached out with the hand that wasn't fumbling with Conrad's trousers and grabbed Murata by the front of his uniform jacket and pulled, making him scramble up to kneel awkwardly on the bed beside them. Then, after another quick, shared glance to make sure the boy was still were still watching, he threaded his hands through Conrad's hair and, with a soft growl, he clamped their mouths together again and started to push Conrad backward onto the bed.

 

Conrad grunted, part surprise and part laughter at the aggressive move. Yozak supposed he deserved that, considering how much trouble he'd been to convince about all this. His initial reaction to the idea had been far less enthusiastic, but, after all, it had never occurred to him for a moment that Murata might be visiting Conrad in secret in the dead of night for essentially the same reason that he himself had snuck through in the past.

 

"You've been doing _what_ , with _Geika_?" he'd squawked, glaring at Conrad in horror after Shinou described the task Conrad had agreed to perform.

 

"This is Daikenja's desire," Shinou had said smoothly.

 

"But is it Murata's?" Yozak shot back at him, and then whipped his head around to Conrad again. "And _you're_ the one they chose to fill this role? No offense, Taichou; you're a great leader on the battlefield and all, but in this area..."

 

He knew Conrad far better than that, or at least, he always thought he did.

 

"I've done the best I can," Conrad replied, as calm as ice itself, but his eyes shifted away for a second; a tremble of doubt, Yozak had thought at the time. "You may be surprised," he'd added softly, and Yozak wondered if maybe it wasn't doubt after all.

 

"Daikenja - Murata Ken - has no complaints at all," Shinou had added.

 

Yozak had raised his eyebrows at that; the whole idea went against all he thought he knew about either of them. But in the end he'd accepted - to Conrad's relief, he was certain. Well, he'd had to accept, after Shinou's suggestion of a way for them to share the task gave him an excuse to wear this outfit he'd been waiting to use for ages.

 

His doubts had remained, though, during the entire time it took for them to make their preparations, right up until the moment he stepped into the room and finally caught sight of Murata surging into Conrad's grasp, or trying to, whimpering and frustrated, twisting his bound hands behind his back but so clearly not trying to break free.

 

Now, hearing Murata's soft, rapid breaths even when his back was turned, Yozak also remembered Shinou's strange explanation of why he wanted them to do this with Murata now. Even though he was truly the soul of the first King that Murata's memories held, he'd said, he was only an echo of that person now, a ghost made of magic and memories, and Murata's present self was not Daikenja, even if he had the memories and some of the desires of his soul's original self. Shinou couldn't be all that Daikenja remembered and he couldn't be all that Murata in the present needed, and, he'd added softly, he knew that he was no longer the only one in Murata's heart.

 

Enraptured as he'd always been by stories of the Original King and the Great Sage, (and far more nervous in the ghost-god's presence than he liked to admit), Yozak had listened silently to an unexpected tale of the past. Even though nothing but mischief glittered in bright blue eyes, behind Shinou's words he heard whispers of the spirit's love for Daikenja-Murata, and he'd started to understand the need that Conrad had been fulfilling on his own for some time now. He was pretty sure he could guess at a more personal reason that Conrad had accepted the role, too, something that had nothing to do with Murata Ken or the Original King's wishes, but he wouldn't have said so to save his life.

 

Now, with Conrad slowly yielding under his hands and with the added heat of Murata watching them, he couldn't have turned back even if he wanted to. This was Shinou's request and Murata's desire, but it had also been called a reward. If that was the case, Yozak reasoned, there was only one thing _he_ really wanted.

 

He shifted over until he was between Conrad's legs, pushing him back with one hand, the other finally yanking off the belt and trousers that seemed to be more troublesome than usual. Most of his own silk and lace had already been scattered across the bed and the floor by now, torn off by Conrad's quick hands which, for once, were more efficient than his. All that was left was the ribbon in his hair and one dangling from his arm, and a strip of silk that was smaller than the royal underwear -- and that, he knew from past experience, was only there because Conrad liked the feel of it stretched taut over his bone-hard cock nearly as much as he did.

 

He looked up one more time, to make sure that Murata was still close enough for Conrad to reach, close enough for him to touch, too, when he had a hand free now and then, and close enough for him to see moist, parted lips and shining black eyes encouraging him to go on and take what he desired.

 

He began to, eagerly, making his intention perfectly clear by wedging Conrad's thighs apart with his own body, sidling in between them until royal underwear and silk were about to meet, and... Conrad stopped him.

 

Yozak jerked to a halt, startled breathless, when Conrad grabbed his wrist and struggled up from where he'd fallen back onto his elbows. That was only halfway to where Yozak wanted him, and he tried again, but Conrad slipped his hand up onto Yozak's shoulder and pulled himself up with such urgency that he drew back as if he'd been slapped.

 

"Yozak, wait!" Conrad hissed against his neck.

 

Yozak growled again, this time in frustration. Hard, brown eyes stared into his, shocking him into listening: w _ait_ , not _stop,_ Conrad had said.

 

He suddenly realized it wasn't resistance to him that made Conrad lean close and press his face against Yozak's shoulder, or even reluctance to let the boy see him in this position, but concern for Murata himself.

 

"He'll want... one of us needs to..." Conrad whispered, his breath hot as a torch against Yozak's throat under his ear. He couldn't seem to get the words out, breathless with arousal and maybe, Yozak thought, because doing all of this _with_ Murata was one thing but saying it out loud was another.

 

Conrad pressed tighter against him, rubbing their bodies together in places that almost made Yozak's vision and hearing go blank, but he still heard the hoarse whisper in his ear. "Take him. After this. Fuck him. _You_ do it, this time..."

 

Yozak choked back a groan. His body responded before his brain made sense of the words. He wanted, so badly it hurt, to be _inside_ of Conrad, _now_ \- but then the thought of Murata all desperate and longing, wrapped around him, under him, melting and giving in to him, and all with _Conrad_ watching...

 

He swallowed hard just to catch his breath, then turned his head and nodded, barely, only enough for Conrad to feel. Then he slid his palm down the length of Conrad's erection, caught his earlobe between his lips and sucked, hard.

 

" _After_ I take care of you, then, Taichou," he whispered. "Even for Geika, I'm not letting _this_ go to waste!"

 

It wasn't often that he couldn't read Conrad's expression at all, but when their eyes met a second later, he had no idea how to explain the look in them. He didn't bother to try, and just listened to his body instead, and to the heat in Conrad's touch and the dark gleam in Murata's eyes. Those signs were clear enough for him.

 

Their lips brushed together again, and then Conrad let him go and gave his shoulder a little push downward. Yozak grinned; he hardly needed that hint now. He shoved Conrad's hand off of him and pushed him back again instead, right back down where he'd almost had him before, only curled slightly to the side so that Murata was still in reach.

 

He glanced up at the boy and caught him staring at their entangled bodies with his lips parted, shifting slightly on his knees, probably trying to give himself some friction. Yozak caught Conrad's hand by the wrist and pressed it onto Murata's thigh, where Conrad immediately curled his fingers into the leg trembling under tangled and creased fabric, pulling Murata up short in his struggles.

 

"Naughty," Yozak managed to rasp, squeezing Conrad's hand hard under his own as a warning. " _Wait_!"

 

He caught the boy's eye with a grin. Murata winced, but then Yozak almost lost his cool completely when those black eyes locked onto theirs with a look of _gratitude_.

 

_This is crazy,_ he thought. Well, maybe it was, but that just meant thinking about it was a waste of time and energy, so he sidled down again, returning his hands and his full attention to Conrad's hard, slick, beautiful body, and did what every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do.

 

~~

 

Murata winced when Conrad slid his hand up higher, pushing bunched up fabric up tight under his already constricted balls and twisting it across his erection. In spite of Yozak's warning, he was grateful as ever for Weller-kyo's unerring skill at restraint. Otherwise, he would never make it through the ordeal that he knew was coming, and as much as he wanted to fly off the peak, he did not want to miss a single moment of the sight of Yozak's beautiful mouth making love to Conrad Weller's damn near perfect cock.

 

He knew that experience very well by now. His own mouth was well acquainted with the shape and texture and taste of Conrad's erection; his tongue curled out over dry lips, remembering, watering at the sight of the droplets that oozed onto Yozak's lips. He realized, though, that he hadn't tasted Yozak's mouth yet, or the rest of his body, only those fingertips that had teased his mouth at the start of this. Not yet. One more thing to anticipate, he thought with a thrill of heat rippling through him from lips to groin.

 

Conrad's fingers twitched on him, convulsing, not entirely for his benefit but in reaction to what Yozak was doing. He felt Conrad watching him, and dragged his gaze away from Yozak's mouth, although the effort was so great it made him whimper. Conrad stared up at him, hard and steady, although his brows twitched now and then as Yozak moved on him, and Murata stared back as evenly as he could. After a few seconds, though, Conrad's gaze slipped away, unfocused, and his lips parted on a gasp. Murata looked down to just in time to see Yozak lower his head, cheeks hollow and throat rippling as he took Conrad's entire length into his mouth.

 

If Conrad's hand hadn't gripped him so tightly just then, Murata thought he might have come at the sight of it. He was amazed that Conrad could hold out against that.

 

He was so intent on watching the gorgeous spectacle - as Yozak pulled back slowly and then, slurping and sucking and with a soft moan, plunged down again - that he jumped in surprise when another hand squeezed his knee. Yozak had one hand somewhere under Conrad, but the other he'd reached out to touch his right leg, with Conrad's hand on his other thigh completing the circuit between the three of them. Conrad's fingers twitched on him then, almost as if he felt it too, and released the pressure just enough so that Murata could push his hips up for a little excruciatingly welcome friction.

 

Yozak shifted on the bed, half kneeling on hands and knees over Conrad, and from there he could glance up with gleaming blue eyes to make sure Murata saw him draw his mouth off Conrad and swirl his tongue around, slathering and gleaming wet over the twitching tip. Conrad gasped almost silently. Murata swallowed hard, panting, letting Yozak see everything that did to him.

 

That, apparently, did something to Yozak. " _Damn_ , Geika," he murmured, lips fluttering on Conrad's cock, and that made Conrad's fingers curl and bite into Murata's thigh so that he was forced to break his gaze with Yozak and throw his head back, whining in desperation.

 

" _You two._.." Yozak sighed, but when Murata looked down, he'd filled his mouth with Conrad's length again, and his long fingers ringed the base and lovingly caressed behind and around his cock with slow, careful strokes.

 

The vision from another life suddenly yanked his mind back into the past, of another pair of blue eyes and another luscious mouth doing the same things to a different Lord Weller. The great sage's memory quickly gave way to the present this time, back to the sight of red hair entwined with ribbons that trailed across Conrad's hip, and Yozak's muscular shoulders and back flexing when he rose up and then dove downward again.

 

Intent on what he was doing, Yozak finally seemed to forget he was being watched. Thick, ginger-colored lashes fluttered over flushed cheeks as his eyes fell half closed. His face was beautiful, Murata thought. It wasn't the first time he'd thought that, either, even though he'd never seen the spy in quite such a blissful state as this. He wondered if Conrad would think so too, if he could see Yozak's face just then.

 

Through the haze of pent-up lust, it occurred to him that Yozak was the only one of them who was actually with the one he wanted most. But then, Conrad's grip tightened on his thigh again, and fierce brown eyes focused demandingly, entirely, on _him_ , and Murata wondered if being with the one you wanted but couldn't have might be even worse than not being able to be with him at all.

 

~~

 

Almost lost in his own indulgence, Yozak forced himself to remember that he and Conrad weren't alone. If it had been up to him, he could have gone on filling his senses for hours with the taste and scent of Conrad's body, the feel of hot skin on his tongue and his fingertips, and the sound of his barely-controlled breath. He knew Conrad's responses as well as his own, though, and neither of them was going to last much longer.

 

He did his damnedest to make it last for Geika's sake, even though he wasn't sure Murata was in any condition to appreciate the suspense any more. Kneeling there beside them, black uniform askew and face flushed and damp, the boy was breathing just about as hard and as raggedly as Conrad was by now. He watched every move with his huge, dark eyes, drinking in the sight of them as eagerly as Yozak wanted to lap up and swallow all he could get of Conrad.

 

He kept a hand on Murata, too, especially since he couldn't really watch him while he was bent low over Conrad's body. Still, he could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Conrad's grip on Murata was both pleasure and restraint. In between down strokes, he caught glimpses of Conrad's hand wrapped around the clearly-defined shape of the boy's erection, still covered by black fabric. Through that touch, he kept the boy under control, even though Murata's hips jerked and he gasped in an echo of Conrad's silent intake of breath when Yozak dropped his head again and let the tip of Conrad's cock slip down his throat.

 

_I've done the best I could..._

 

Yozak _was_ surprised, just as Conrad had said he might be, but not only by Conrad's skill at controlling the poor kid's arousal; he was shocked by the heat that rushed through his own veins at the sight of it. He was used to working his way through Conrad's damn near infinite self-control, but he'd never expected to see it turned around on someone else like this, never imagined Daikenja would want it to be, and, especially, never, ever imagined that seeing this could make him want Conrad Weller even more than he already did.

 

Yozak had pushed one hand underneath Conrad where he could knead the tight muscles of his ass, and coax him to lift his hips - not that he needed much encouragement in that. He scooted around to the side a little more so that Conrad's other hand could reach him, too, and smiled around the hot, solid cock in his mouth when he felt normally skilled fingers falter clumsily on his own silk-covered erection. Keeping in mind what he'd whispered earlier, he figured Conrad knew enough not to put too much pressure into his touch there, or they'd be needing a new plan pretty fast.

 

He was too hungry for Conrad to let this go on much longer, anyway. When his own erection twitched against Conrad's hand, only the thought of that whispered command to _wait_ kept him from letting go completely. He managed to look up once more, just enough to see Murata wince with his head thrown back, and to see Conrad's hand tight around the boy's cock; his thumb circled the tip, clearly defined through the fabric by shape and by the darker spot of dampness there, but the pressure of his fingers held off any hope of release.

 

Yozak couldn't see any reason to give Conrad the same consideration. Heat and desire gathered at the base of his cock, making him wince with the effort of holding back. Too hungry to even release the groan in his throat, he lifted Conrad up, fingers digging into hard but yielding muscles, and let all of that desire come through in his touch and in his greedy, hungry mouth.

 

He knew he'd broken through the captain's self-restraint when he heard sharp, quickened breaths, felt Conrad's body jerk and felt fingers clench and twist in his hair. He groaned when the first hot drops hit his tongue a second later, but in the end Murata cried out more loudly than any of them when Yozak finally got what he hungered for and brought Conrad to a thrashing climax.

 

But at least, this time, the name Conrad gasped just before he came was his - just his, and not anyone else's; not the name that often came either screaming or sighing from Conrad's lips without him even realizing it. That, alone, was more reward than Shinou or anyone else could offer.

 

For a few minutes afterward, Yozak felt content enough with that to simply rest his cheek on Conrad's thigh, licking his lips with satisfaction. Waiting for his own racing heart to slow down a little, he listened to the captain's breath grow quieter, while Murata still panted shakily somewhere up above his head.

 

He smoothed one hand over Conrad's flank as if to help settle him after his release, and with the other, he reached over to tease Murata's unrelieved erection through his uniform trousers with a light touch of his fingertips. Ignoring his own throbbing cock for the moment, he licked his lips, more deliberately this time, and grinned up at the young sage. Murata stared down at him with a desperate, grateful, hungry look in those black eyes, but said nothing.

 

"Don't thank me yet, Ken-chan," he said, grinning. "You don't think we're done here now, do you?"

 

He almost laughed out loud. He'd been certain Murata Ken's eyes could not possibly get any bigger, but, somehow, they did.

 

_to be continued_

 


	5. Destination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can't be with the one you (think) you love, you can still love the one you're with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted sometime back around 2008 or so on affnet and LJ.

In spite of Yozak's enticing words, Murata noticed that he didn't seem to be in a hurry to move just yet. He looked way too content, lying there across Conrad's sprawled legs with the fingertips of one hand resting on a mismatched pair of scars on Conrad's hip. Red hair, tangled and darkened with sweat, hid most of his face, but Murata could see that his eyes were closed and his lips were open next to Conrad's thigh, as if he was breathing in the taste of his skin.

 

Murata turned to Conrad, whose eyes were just coming into focus on him. He bowed his head and let his lips twitch in strained smile, acknowledging his rather desperate condition and the fact that Conrad remained in control of it.

 

He hadn't even tried to calm his own breathing, although he was not quite as painfully aroused now that the two older men had stopped... moving, for the moment. Conrad smiled back in approval, gave his leg one more brief squeeze, and then he raised his head and looked down at Yozak. His soft eyes gleamed with a light that Yozak, still resting his cheek on Conrad's thigh with his eyes closed, didn't see.

 

Then, as if at an unspoken signal, both men sat up and turn toward Murata. 

 

He shrank back, startled by the sudden movement and by their attention now being focused so keenly on _him_. Yozak's eyebrow lifted and Conrad's smile became more of a smirk, and he realized he was staring, open-mouthed in awe at the two of them, at muscles rippling and skin gleaming with the sweat of their recent exertion - which was, at least on the surface, all on his behalf. He didn't even try to guess what they were going to do together next. The unusually intense heat in Conrad's gaze and touch had been cooled by Yozak, but he was still half erect, and Murata knew by now that Conrad could smolder like this for hours. Yozak, on the other hand, was apparently as hard as could be, if the ridged swell under white silk was all that it seemed. 

 

Murata's breath escaped in a little whine when Conrad sat up with his legs wrapped around Yozak from behind, leaned forward against the other man's back, and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Watching Murata's face, he slid his hand up Yozak's muscular thigh until he reached the ribbon that held the tiny strip of silk in place. Yozak hissed; he caught Conrad's eye and grinned, but he caught Conrad's hand under his as well and gave his head a little shake as a warning. 

 

"Easy with that, Taichou," he said. His voice was lower than usual and vibrated right through Murata's skin. "I'm trying to save it for Ken-chan, you know!"

 

"I certainly hope so," Conrad said pleasantly. "I'll be very careful, then."

 

Yozak forced out a shaky laugh, but Conrad was true to his word, and Yozak relaxed a little as gentle fingers untied the ribbon, slowly. Murata realized he was holding his breath, and that they were both watching him and grinning as Yozak's magnificent erection was slowly revealed. 

 

Then their words sank in. Startled again, he looked up at their faces, and Conrad smiled and nodded at him. 

 

"Ready for me, Ken-chan?" Yozak asked archly. 

 

Conrad left Yozak and moved over to him, then, sliding one hand up his leg and pulling him forward with the other. 

 

"He will be ready," Conrad said, breathing hot on his neck, while he moved his hand up from Murata's leg and slipped it under his shirt, pressing rough fingers against his chest. "Soon enough!"

 

Murata's heart pounded under Conrad's touch; he stared into commanding brown eyes and then past them into sparkling blue ones. He hadn't bothered to guess what Yozak meant when he'd said they weren't done, and he still wasn't sure, but it was clear that his role as a mere observer was over.

 

~~

 

Yozak had discovered that, if being watched was more arousing than he'd ever guessed, being deliberately put on display was almost too intense to bear. 

 

"Ah," Conrad had sighed over his shoulder when he'd felt Yozak quiver and jerk after being fully exposed to Murata's view. The breath made his skin tingle, almost enough to distract him from the hand teasing his thigh. "You really do love showing it off, don't you?" 

 

"Well, when it gets this kind of reaction..." he muttered back, tipping his head to where Murata watched them with his mouth hanging open. He felt Conrad's silent laughter as a puff of air on the back of his neck, and didn't bother to add that his current condition had less to do with Murata and a lot more to do with Conrad's hand, and with his legs, arms, and entire body wrapped around him the way they were.

 

Then Conrad had slipped away, taking the heat of his touch back to Murata instead, and Yozak breathed a reluctant sigh of relief. He still wasn't used to this new, sexually aggressive Conrad - even in their most urgent moments, he'd usually been the more passive of the two of them, even if not always in the more passive position - but if Conrad had spoken a single word of command to him just then, he would have complied without a thought.

 

Some things were the same as ever, though; years of familiarity meant that he understood Conrad's intention with no more than a glance between them, and he moved over to Murata's side, grasped the boy's arm while Conrad leaned in on the other side, and began the first teasing motions of undressing him. He felt Murata shudder under their hands in what had to be delicious anticipation, judging from the little sighs that escaped with every other panting breath, and from the way he struggled more into their grasp than against them. 

 

Together, they coaxed him up onto his knees, and Conrad held onto him with a warning hand while Yozak worked his pants down off his thighs, exposing a wealth of pale skin and a slightly subdued erection. Yozak caught himself licking his lips as his fingertips brushed smooth thighs and the perfectly rounded curve of his ass. Murata's sharp, whining intake of breath was cut short by Conrad's hand moving under his open his shirt; Yozak leaned over to see one pink nipple pinched between calloused thumb and fingertip, and swallowed hard. 

 

"Ah - aaah," Murata gasped, blinking rapidly, legs shifting under him but trying not to squirm against Conrad's grasp.

 

"Ken-chan," Conrad said softly, his lips pressed into damp hair at Murata's temple. "Hmm, Ken-chan?"

 

Murata didn't speak, only swallowed the whining plea and the protest; he dropped his head forward, leaning into Conrad - at the same time, he shifted one leg so that it happened to rub against Yozak's side, but maybe that was accidental. 

 

Yozak waited. He held Murata's shoulder just to steady him, his other hand rested quietly on the boy's hip, although his fingers were getting twitchy with the urge to feel more of that lovely, white skin they'd exposed.

 

Conrad reached around and pressed Murata's bound hands under his, and whispered something in Murata's ear. Yozak couldn't hear the words, but guessed what it must have been about when Murata wiggled his fingers; then he licked his lips and his throat moved, but he didn't speak, only gave his head a little shake. His choice: the scarf was staying tied around his wrists.

 

"Good, Ken-chan," Conrad said soothingly. He kissed Murata's temple and the corner of his mouth, and gave his fingers another squeeze before moving his hand away.

 

Yozak felt an odd flush of heat in his groin from seeing that Murata chose this, though part of the warmth might have been from seeing Conrad ask. At the same time, his practical side noted that if he was really supposed to fuck Murata, that was likely to get in the way. He was just going to have to figure out how to deal with that when the time came. 

 

Murata stayed still, head bowed and eyes closed, while Conrad began to kiss, lick, and softly bite his way down his throat and chest, lips teasing one nipple after the other. Yozak could have watched this indefinitely - he was starting to see why Murata liked being on the viewing end so much - but Conrad touched his hand where it rested on Murata's hip and squeezed it lightly as a signal to continue. 

 

Following Conrad's leisurely pace, Yozak began to feel his way around Murata's body, getting acquainted with the way he moved into certain touches, how his breath caught in little whispered sighs, and with the scent of his damp hair as he pressed his lips into the unruly black waves of it. He was used to the hard curves and planes of Conrad's body, and it had been longer than he could count since he'd held anyone else, but Murata fit surprisingly well into his arms and against his chest.

 

Time and adventures in Shin Makoku had left Murata Ken a bit more fit and trim than the soft but plucky blond kid Yozak had first met a couple of years before - if it had even been that long; so much had happened since then that it was hard to remember how much time had really passed, but Murata hadn't changed much as far as he could tell. Maybe less time had passed than he thought, or else the kid had started to age as slowly as mazoku. In human terms, Yozak figured, Murata was actually a little older than he and Conrad were when they first had sex. Then again, in terms of memory and experience, the young sage was not, after all, as young as he looked; his soul was older than the ages, even though, at a moment like this, it didn't seem that way at all. 

 

It gave him the moment's pause to think of all the memories of past lovers Murata might have to compare him to. When he'd first revealed himself, the returned Daikenja had made it clear that he didn't think of those past lives as his own experience; still, it was rather as if the boy had read every manual of love ever written. It was a bit intimidating, if he thought of it like that, but even if the only past life Murata considered worth remembering was the one spent with the original king, that was bad enough to be compared to! But that was why they were here anyway: to give Murata Ken his own memories of pleasure, and to soothe the ache of longing for a past that could never be replaced. Yozak had already decided he'd gladly use all of his own mere eighty-something years of experience to do that. 

 

~~

 

Murata closed his eyes, breathless and almost dizzy with the effort of keeping silent while Conrad and Yozak seemed determined to do make him moan out loud. With their hands and mouths teasing him to distraction, Daikanja's memories blended into the present again, and he suddenly thought of the single time Shinou had watched while others made love to him.

 

Through that entire time, as arousing as it was to be touched and desired by others, he had only focused on Shinou's eyes as they grew dark with lust, until he was swept away and couldn't focus on anything at all. But, long before they were done with him, Shinou had yanked them all away, and finally he threw them out of the room with a snarl and took Daikenja for himself. As much as it was a relief and a pleasure to feel desired by so many after his life of isolation, all that had mattered to him then was that his beloved king wanted him too much to share. 

 

Unfortunately, for Murata Ken, the present did not match the past in that aspect.

 

Daikenja's memories and the more recent past of his own longings were pushed away by the caress of sword-calloused hands, by brown eyes narrowing as if they guessed where his thoughts had strayed to, and by hot breath on the back of his neck. He realized that, no matter what he remembered of the past, _this_ body had never been touched and desired this way, by two eager lovers at once. He relished every sensation of the moment as four hands glided over his skin, pulled the shirt and jacket back off his shoulders and helped him crawl the rest of the way out of his trousers. Four strong arms caught and held him in place while Conrad brought recent experience to bear with lips and teeth on his sensitized skin, and Yozak improvised just as effectively. 

 

After tossing his pants away to join the rest of his own and Conrad's clothes, Yozak leaned around and lifted his chin. For a moment Murata stared up into blue eyes, then lost what focus he had when Yozak's thumb brushed his lips apart. Unconsciously, he leaned up into the touch, and the next thing he knew Yozak's hands were gripping his hair to pull his head up.

 

Their first kiss was sudden, hard, and deep, and left Murata moaning in his throat so desperately that Conrad had to remind him to be silent with sharp nip of teeth to his ribs. Mingled with Yozak's own familiar scent of woods, leather, and perfume, Murata tasted Conrad on Yozak's tongue. He had no idea how much he'd come to desire the man until that taste sent waves of heat rushing through his body. It made him want both of them even more than he already did, and more than that, it made him want to somehow sear the bond between the two of them even deeper, so that neither of them could deny it any longer.

 

He was breathless and Yozak was swearing under his breath when Conrad finally, gently, pulled them apart and pushed him backward into Yozak's arms. Too dazed to question their intentions, he let them put him where Conrad wanted him. That turned out to be raised up on his knees near the edge of the bed, perched there with his hands bound behind him and with his jacket twisted around his arms as well. He glanced back; kneeling right behind him, Yozak looked over his shoulder, glazed eyes focusing again as Conrad caught his gaze. He could see them making plans without words, understanding each other's intentions even while he wondered what they were going to do with him. Anticipation of their unknown plan was nearly as arousing as all of their touches. 

 

Yozak moved closer, one knee nudging his legs apart and both hands firmly on his hips. Conrad lifted his chin with one hand and kissed him breathless again, while, with the other hand, he helped Yozak spread his legs and maneuver him backward until he was kneeling across Yozak's lap, legs splayed wide on either side of Yozak's broad thighs. Yozak murmured his approval, his breath tickled the back of Murata's neck, and strong hands kneaded his thighs to spread them wider. 

 

Conrad sat back at the edge of the bed, one leg bent under himself and the other foot on the floor, and regarded the two of them. Murata felt like he was the one on display now, spread out before them like this. As hot as it was to watch them, being seen like this was quickly bringing him back to his earlier state of arousal, even without Conrad's hands and mouth teasing him so mercilessly. 

 

In fact, being stared at this way was so stimulating that the full significance of his position only became clear to his hazy brain a moment later, when Yozak lifted his hips and pulled him backward so that the impressive erection he'd stared at a few minutes ago nestled cozily right up underneath him. 

 

_Oh!_ he thought, and immediately felt like an idiot for not catching on sooner. He stared up at Conrad, his mouth falling open in the shape of that exclamation, but too breathless to speak it even if it had been allowed. Conrad just smiled back at him sweetly. 

 

" _Are_ you ready for me, Ken-chan?" Yozak whispered in his ear. 

 

He was, _so_ ready - or at least, he wanted to think he was; after all, Yozak wasn't _that_ much bigger than Conrad, but still...

 

Murata shivered from head to foot, swallowed hard, and, even if it was a bit of an exaggeration, nodded... yes. 

 

~~

 

Yozak looked down over the boy's shoulder, amazed and excited by the sight of him like this - pale chest heaving quickly, head bowed, white skin flushed and gleaming. Murata winced slightly when Conrad's teeth nipped at his skin again, and bound hands twitched and grasped, brushing against Yozak's stomach. 

 

He remembered seeing Murata staring up at a man twice his size holding a sword at his throat, and in worse situations than that, and yet he'd never looked as vulnerable as this. It made him want to pull Murata into his arms, kiss him and soothe him, the way he wanted to with Conrad sometimes but never did.

 

Then Conrad flicked his tongue over the peak of one nipple, sweet and soothing. Murata groaned and arched into the touch, head falling back against Yozak's chest. Black hair drifted off of his face to reveal black lashes fluttering on flushed cheeks. Nothing vulnerable in that face now, Yozak thought, staring down at him; there was only _wanting_ there now, so strong and palpable it rose from him in waves, so clear to see in his parted lips and in the arch of his back and the firm, round ass rocking against him, unconsciously maybe, but undeniably clear. 

 

Conrad caught Yozak's eye, smirked and raised an eyebrow. Yozak realized he was staring at Murata with his mouth hanging open, while Conrad was obviously waiting for him to get on with the plan. Yozak grinned back; well, he'd been the impatient one a minute ago, after all. He cupped his large palms around the sweetly rounded ass cheeks, and felt Murata shudder into his touch as he began to knead and spread them. 

 

"Nnahhh-ahhyaah," Murata panted, almost earning another pinch from Conrad, when Yozak's fingers delved deeper to flick teasingly over his most sensitive area. 

 

Yozak was tempted to make some noise of his own, just by the way Murata squirmed into his hands, clenching and yielding all at once. The promise of that body pressing into his touch made his erection twitch impatiently, but he gritted his teeth, determined to keep control for at least a little longer. Conrad had been right, to a point: Murata was ready for him, but not really ready enough. He caught Conrad's eye over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows in a question of his own.

 

Conrad understood. His eyes darted to the head of the bed where Yozak thought he'd glimpsed a vial of something thick and liquid earlier, but instead of reaching for it, Conrad took Yozak's hand and brought it up to Murata's lips.

 

"Nice and wet, Ken-chan," he said softly, "just like always." 

 

Hearing Conrad say it like that was bad enough; seconds later Yozak groaned out loud, not caring if they heard him all the way to the stables, or that Conrad was probably laughing at him. That little bit of sucking on his fingertips that Murata did when he first arrived was a mere hint compared to this hungry, slathering suction of lips and tongue. Murata sucked three fingers into his mouth up to the knuckles, and still seemed eager for more. The heat and pressure of it went right to Yozak's groin. He bit his lip to hold back another, even louder groan, and then when Murata wiggled his sweet ass back against him again, he almost lost all control. He wouldn't even have cared if he did - it was that good.

 

Luckily, Conrad knew the signs and wasn't as clouded with lust as he was now, thanks to him taking care of that earlier. He pulled Yozak's hand way from that luscious mouth by the wrist, and at the same time pulled Murata up and forward, stifling a whine of protest with his own mouth. With an effort, Yozak remembered the original purpose of the oral stimulation. He quickly thrust his dripping fingers down where they were intended to go, only to meet Conrad's hand there, too, with a palm full of warm, thick gel.

 

While Murata squirmed and made muffled, anxious sounds, Conrad slicked the stuff onto Yozak's wet fingers where it smoothed into a silken liquid. Slippery fingers pressed one of his own into place, and he grunted with a shock of satisfaction echoed by Murata's gasp when it slipped inside. 

 

Murata sighed. Yozak thought the kid was going to melt into a puddle on his lap, but after a few seconds he started to flex his whole body, trying to get more. As soon as Yozak felt tense muscles yield to him a little, he added a second finger, and then a third, quickly but carefully, urged on and guided by Conrad's touch, and encouraged by brown eyes suddenly turned warm and gentle. 

 

Something about that the sweetness of that look inspired Yozak to bend down and press his lips to Murata's hands, to his spine above his bound wrists, to the lovely curve of his ass below them - and if he could have reached, he would have bent right around Murata and kissed the beautiful smile on Conrad's lips as well. 

 

Instead, Conrad leaned forward and whispered to both of them: "Now."

 

 

 

Murata murmured something in a soft moan, forgetting himself for a moment when Yozak pulled his fingers out; Yozak thought it might even have been his name, but it was quickly muffled by Conrad's mouth. Squirming and struggling for leverage his bound arms didn't allow, Murata tried his best to help while Conrad's hands on his hips and Yozak's on his wide-spread legs maneuvered him back and down onto Yozak's aching erection. 

 

Yozak had every intention of going nice and slow at his point, at least as slow as he could stand without screaming, but Conrad and Murata had other ideas, and the warm oil and gravity took care of the rest. For a few crazy heartbeats it was all he could do to remember to breathe, with the tight heat of Murata's body and the luscious, breathy sounds the kid was making squeezing the air out of his lungs in a rush of wonderful heat.

 

Murata's legs trembled, stretched and strained wide across Yozak's broad lap. He whined against Conrad's lips, but then Conrad left him gasping out loud as he started to trail kisses down his throat, down his chest and lower. Yozak looked down over Murata's shoulder to see Conrad wrap his hand around Murata's erection with carefully measured strokes, giving the base a squeeze whenever Murata's moans become too sharp and quick. 

 

Almost mindless now, Yozak muttered Conrad's name, then Ken's, between kisses and panting breaths at the back of Murata's neck. Conrad moved lower, until Yozak felt hot breath on his thigh. He looked down again, stared down at them, almost disbelievingly, and yet not really surprised at all by what he saw.

 

Down on his knees between their wide stretched legs, Conrad's whole manner had fallen from intense and controlling to carefully gentle. He knelt there with his head bowed, damp brown strands falling across his eyes as he placed delicate kisses on the tender skin at the juncture of Murata's body and thigh. 

 

_This_ was the Conrad he knew, Yozak thought; all but submissive himself, and not the aggressive, commanding lover he'd been seeing here. But the change was more than that. The way he touched Murata's chest, hip, stomach, was almost reverent now. He pressed his cheek to the delicate skin of Murata's inner thigh, then his lips to the same place, eyes nearly closed, eyebrows twitching almost as if in pain - then he touched the uniform jacket and shirt that still hung from Murata's arms, fingers rigid and trembling, as if these things were as infinitely precious as the one who wore them.

 

Yozak winced. He knew, all along, that this was part of it, that it was not really Murata that Conrad wanted to touch and taste like this. He tore his gaze away from Conrad and leaned over to see Murata's face, to see if he knew it too, although he was almost certain that Murata did know, and that this had been part of the offer all along.

 

He did not expect to see liquid black eyes staring down, not focused on Conrad but on someone else there in his place. A memory of his own, the lost and distant past, Yozak guessed. His heart clenched for the kid, until he saw Murata's lips move, silently shaping a name he'd never heard anyone else say, a strange name from another world: _Shi...bu...yaaa..._

 

Then Murata's eyes closed, Conrad's eyes closed completely as he took the boy in his mouth... 

 

Yozak looked away and pressed his face into damp hair at the back of Murata's neck. He felt as if a corset was laced too tightly around his ribs. 

 

_You too, Geika?_ he thought. Just for a moment, he really did hate Yuuri. 

 

It all made him long to be infinitely gentle with Murata, with both of them. It was clear by now, though, that tenderness was not what Murata wanted from him, and it was rarely what Conrad expected of him either. So, instead, he dug his fingers deeper into Murata's thigh and thrust upward sharply. Maybe, he thought, that gave Murata Ken a different reason to wince and cry out; he hoped it was a better reason.

 

He wanted to give Conrad something else to think about, too, and to yank him back from pointless longing and force him to be with _them,_ here, now, no matter what Shinou might have promised. He lifted Murata's leg higher so he could hook his arm under it and bury his other fist in Conrad's hair, clasped strands of it in tight fingers and pushed down. Conrad stiffened for a second and then relented into his grip, moving into his touch, or maybe it was just convenient to the way he wanted to move his mouth on Murata's length anyway. 

 

Then Yozak gasped, caught by surprise when already tight muscles clenched tighter around his cock, sending sparks up his spine. Maybe that was on purpose, too, he thought, to give him a different reason to close his eyes tightly and bury his face in soft, black hair, to breathe in the deep, familiar scent of Conrad's body - a reason not to think about the fact that, if it wasn't for this strange task Shinou had asked of him, he might not even have this chance to be so close to Conrad now. 

 

It was a torturous kind of reward Shino offered all of them, but what else could he give? Right now, Yozak figured, all he could do in gratitude for it was to fuck the king's sage senseless, and maybe forget himself as well if he could manage it. 

 

He set his mind and body to that task. Bracing his legs against the bed, he began to jab his pelvis upward, as hard and deep as he could manage at this angle, grunting with the effort and the maddening, tight heat of every thrust. Murata twisted and arched against him so wildly that they were soon in danger of toppling off the edge of the bed, and every movement sent Yozak closer to the edge. He wondered if the kid had to hold on until Conrad gave him a command or permission to come; he wasn't sure he could wait, wasn't sure either of them could hold out much longer, but he couldn't quite reach all the way, either; he needed something, just a little more....

 

He ground out Conrad's name before he realized it, and then opened his eyes to find himself staring down over Murata's shoulder again, and Conrad, with his lips hovering a breath away from the boy's straining erection, looked straight up at him, waiting. 

 

Once more, all it took was a look and a grimace, and Conrad understood and nodded. With a groan of relief, Yozak started to tug on the scarf holding Murata's wrists together.

 

"Sorry, Geika-chan," he growled, with no idea what he was saying and not sure Murata could even hear him or cared. "You're going to want to grab on to something in a second anyway..."

 

~~

 

Murata cried out when his arms were released, more in surprise than anything else. The pain in strained shoulders was far outweighed by the burning pleasure of Yozak's thick length filling him, and by the effort of trying to hold out for Conrad - for both of them, now. He flailed and grabbed for them, reached back and got a fistful of Yozak's hair, and scrambled with his other hand until he clutched the thin ridge of scar that circled Conrad's arm.

 

It was a good thing he did. The next thing he knew, they were lifting him upward and forward; Yozak pulled back and then with a muffled grunt slammed into him again, and if he thought he'd taken all of Yozak before, he found out he was wrong. It stopped his cries and almost stopped his breath, and then Conrad took him in his mouth again, and that was it.

 

...The white-hot rush of long denied release was heightened right at the edge when he felt Yozak follow after him, pounding into him faster and harder all at once until he suddenly stopped, and then screamed _almost_ loud enough to wake the whole castle and half the town below if he hadn't plastered his face against Murata's shoulder to muffle it. As the wave of his orgasm crashed over him, Murata's awareness was suddenly split between the intense, nearly painful sensation of feeling every swipe of Conrad's tongue lapping at his sensitized cock, and the incongruous thought that Conrad always said _he_ was too noisy... 

 

Suspended between them, and suspended in time, anchored to the present by Yozak deep inside him and Conrad's mouth on him, by their hands and Conrad's scent and Yozak's hot breath on his neck, nothing else mattered and he could just ... finally ... let go....

 

 

~~

 

Yozak realized that he'd somehow managed to get the oblivion he thought he wanted when normal awareness began to return, slowly. The first thing he noticed, though, was the familiar scent of Conrad's hair, and the soft brush of it against his chin....

 

He opened his eyes to find that, somehow, they'd shifted around so that they were draped all over each other, all limp and sweaty and panting for breath, perched at the very edge of the bed. Murata had slipped off of him but sat with his legs sprawled across his and Conrad's lap. Conrad held both of them, with his head tucked between Murata's shoulder and his own, stroking their hair each in turn.

 

Almost as soon as his mind cleared enough to notice this, though, Conrad pulled back a little. Brown eyes looked into his, smiling and warm, just for a second.

 

Then Murata sighed - happily, Yozak was pretty certain - and started to stretch, and that upset their tangled balance so that they all collapsed sideways onto the bed with one united, relieved, satisfied groan. Murata settled in between him and Conrad, as relaxed as if all his bones had melted.

 

_Task accomplished_ , Yozak thought. For now, at least.

 

~~

 

_to be concluded in part 3d, epilogue._

 

 

 

 


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the afterglow of their threesome, Yozak reflects on suspicions confirmed, and Conrad reconsiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted sometime around 2008, on affnet and LJ.

It took a moment for Yozak to recognize the change when it happened.

 

The three of them were sprawled and curled together across Conrad's bed, Murata cozily wedged in the middle with a smile of bliss on his face, and Conrad's hands gently kneading his shoulders. Conrad leaned up and looked down on Murata with an expression of concern.

 

"Geika?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

 

"Of course, Weller-kyo," Murata answered without opening his eyes, his voice thick and sleepy but otherwise quite normal.

 

He knew it had to happen, but he was still startled to see Murata and Conrad fall back into their usual roles so easily, back into being the king's adviser and kingdom's loyal servant as if they had never changed. He'd been wondering how he would ever be able to look at Murata the same way again, but he supposed if Conrad could simply go back to deferring to the reincarnated sage in the same old way after all of that, he could, too - at least, as much as he ever did.

 

He roused himself a little more, enough to feel that Murata was even more limp than he was, and that he looked like he might just as soon not ever move again. Even as Yozak thought this, though, Conrad caught his eye and nodded past him toward the far side of the bed. Yozak remembered the rest of their arrangements and knew what he meant, but before he rolled over to start dealing with that, he added his hand to Conrad's on Murata's shoulder, and touched his face.

 

"Are you sure, Geika?" he said, trying to sound as back-to-normal as they did, even though he didn't feel that way at all. "We weren't too much for you?"

 

He forced a lilt of humor into his words to hide the twist of concern in his gut; he'd lost track for a few seconds there at the end, but he thought things had gotten a bit rougher than he'd intended. Murata shook his head a little and looked like he might pry his eyes open, but then thought better of it. He sighed, smiling even more happily.

 

"Nearly... but no."

 

He sounded as if "nearly too much" was better than perfect. Conrad smiled across at Yozak with a little shrug, as if to say _I tried to tell you..._

 

Yozak spread his hands and shrugged back at him. How could he have guessed? He never would have expected this of either of them, but he certainly couldn't argue with such blatant evidence of success.

 

It seemed a shame to let it end so quickly, though. He didn't really want to pull away from them and his limbs felt pleasantly heavy, but the night was passing. He knew that if they were going to keep anyone else from guessing what they were up to here, they would have to move soon. With a stretch and a sigh, he rolled back and sat up, and reached over to grab the bundle of clothes waiting on a chair beside the bed.

 

Murata sat up, blinking like a sleepy child awakened too early from a nap - a very contented sleepy child, at that. Yozak's sharp eyes caught him flinching as he sat up, though, and so did Conrad, who leaned over him again quickly.

 

"Geika, you know you don't have to...."

 

Murata shook his head, cutting him off.

 

"I have to go back, Weller-kyo. You know that's what we decided from the beginning. I'll be fine."

 

Conrad frowned but nodded. He sat back, with a quick glance aside at Yozak as Murata pulled his shirt and jacket back into place and started casting around for the rest of his clothes. Yozak jumped in right on cue.

 

"Well, at least you don't have to walk by yourself all the way over there this time, since I'm going in the same direction," he said. He grinned when Murata looked up, startled, at him, and held up a tunic and cloak from the bundle. "Here, put these on instead of your regular clothes - more comfortable, I guarantee you!"

 

Murata looked doubtful but he went along with the suggestion, shedding the gold-trimmed black jacket, with another little wince from stiff shoulders. Conrad folded the jacket together neatly with the matching trousers and placed them at his side, then dipped a cloth in the pitcher by the bedside, and used it to clean them both up a little. Yozak saw him frown and brush gingerly over the bruises that were already starting to show on Murata's thighs, but Conrad's touch now was no more intimate than he might have used to help a friend bathe at a public bath.

 

Yozak had taken the opportunity to clean himself up a little as well. He quickly slipped into his own tunic, then held the cloak ready to drape around Murata's shoulders.

 

"There we are! Much better," he said as he wrapped the blanketing cloth around the boy's slim shoulders.

 

Then, while Murata was busy adjusting the oversized cloak around himself, Yozak quickly bent down and scooped the kid up in his arms.

 

"Hey!" Murata started to yelp, but Conrad quickly stepped up and placed a finger to his lips. The rule about not speaking or crying out had its practical side, after all: they didn't want the guards to come running in answer to a shout, or worse yet, the maids, not even after the fact.

 

"Allow me," Yozak said, mockingly gracious. Murata pouted up at him furiously, wiggling in his arms; it was all Yozak could do not to lean down and plant a kiss on those soft, bruised lips. "Anyway, _I'll_ make sure no one sees us coming or going!" he added with a wink.

 

"It's for the best, Geika," Conrad said as he finished tying the sash of his own robe. He handed Murata his glasses with a polite little bow, then stepped back and grinned at Yozak. "It turns out that some people here at the castle are far more observant than we accounted for!"

 

Yozak saw the light of comprehension dawn on the sage's face.

 

"So that's how you got involved? I should have guessed," Murata said. He put his glasses on, the better to glare at them with, apparently, and folded his arms. "All right then, if you insist...."

 

They did insist, but Yozak felt the limp weight relax in his arms. He was sure Murata was already starting to feel glad that he didn't have to walk back to the shrine tonight, and secrecy aside, riding there on horseback would have been out of the question. He would be even more glad of it tomorrow, too.

 

Conrad went with them as far as the castle wall, holding doors and checking corridors, although Yozak didn't really think it was necessary. A minute later, they stepped out of the same hidden doorway that Yozak had seen Conrad leave through several weeks ago. The air outside was fresh and cool compared to the closeness of Conrad's room, and they all looked up to where the faintest glow touched the eastern hills.

 

Mingled satisfaction and regret settled on Yozak. He suddenly wished he didn't have to walk away and leave Conrad behind now, but that was part of the arrangement he'd walked into when he'd followed the captain that night - never expecting this is what he'd find. Shinou himself couldn't have kept him from seeing Murata back home safe and sound now, anyway, but still...

 

_And this is what I get for spying on people from rooftops_ , he thought with a sigh. Plain old political intrigue would've been so much simpler.

 

~~

 

Conrad hadn't planned to walk this far with them; Murata never even allowed Conrad to see him off beyond the door of his room before, always insisting that it was safer for the secrecy of their meetings if he slipped off alone. Now that the truth of that had been disproved, he couldn't help but follow them to the out wall under the excuse of helping Yozak get through the castle with his hands full.

 

He tucked the clothes they'd arrived in earlier into the armful of cloak and Murata in Yozak's arms.

 

"Be careful," he said softly, and leaned in to place a final, soft kiss on Murata's lips - something else he didn't usually get to do before Murata left.

 

This time, maybe because of his comfortable position, Murata sighed and returned the kiss, sleepy and soft but still with a hint of hunger, and with a whispered "Thank you, Weller-kyo" against his lips.

 

Conrad pulled away with a little difficulty, reminding himself that Murata needed to get back and rest; they all did, really. Then Yozak caught his glance. He raised one eyebrow and shifted his hip higher.

 

"Eh... " he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes, "Yozak doesn't get a goodnight kiss..."

 

Murata's lips curved upward; the early light gleamed off his glasses and hid his eyes, but Conrad guessed he was smirking at them.

 

"Why not?" Conrad said. He smirked in turn when he caught Yozak by surprise by planting his hands on either side of his shoulders in the doorway.

 

Then he pressed his mouth to Yozak's, and thought he might have made a mistake - if not now, then earlier. They were all spent and tired, but his body hummed back to life, almost, with the familiar taste and feel of Yozak's kiss and the solid feel of his body, even with Murata wedged in between them.

 

It occurred to him, as if it was a thought that had been lurking in his mind all along, that if it hadn't been for satisfying Murata's needs, he might well have preferred to let Yozak do what he'd intended earlier. He had to stop that thought in its tracks - it had been too long since he'd had the pleasure he'd given over to Murata tonight, and the memory of Yozak's hard body hammering into his sent a thrill shooting through him that was hard to resist.

 

He pulled back from Yozak, dropping one hand to let him leave, hoping they wouldn't notice his other fist clenched tight on the door frame.

 

"Go," he said, but his voice was too sharp and breathless. Yozak stared back at him without moving. Waiting for him to say something, Conrad thought, and he almost said it: "come back and stay with me..."

 

He wondered how long it had been since they just spent the night together, sleeping and waking in each other's familiar presence, or since he saw that look of expectation in Yozak's eyes, and he wondered why it had disappeared until now. Maybe he'd just become too familiar with his old lover to see it anymore, too distracted by all their other concerns, or maybe he was just so much in the habit, now, of not looking for desire in someone else's eyes that he didn't see it when it was there.

 

Yozak looked away first, and Conrad followed his gaze to look down at Murata, now nestled against his chest - eyes closed behind his glasses, and smiling.

 

"Next time, eh, taichou?" Yozak murmured.

 

Conrad nodded and stepped back. He watched from the hidden doorway as Yozak walked away, silently disappearing into the shadows.

 

_Next time..._

 

~~

 

Yozak could have found the way to the shrine with his eyes closed, which was just as well since the muffled gray of early dawn was nearly as hard to see through as the black of night.

 

Once Murata got used to the idea of being carried like a helpless child, he'd settled quite comfortably into Yozak's arms, his limp weight a nice reminder of all they'd done in the last few hours. Safely out of sight of the castle walls, Yozak walked easily, stretching limbs that he knew were going to be sore in surprising places the next day - though not anywhere near as much so as the kid in his arms was going to be.

 

It was just as well that his feet knew where to go without him having to pay much attention, Yozak thought with a frown. He was starting to feel too tired to think about it anyway, but his mind kept slipping away toward other things - the revelation that Conrad could, in fact, dominate a lover, for example... the way he'd looked down there on his knees when all that control gave way.... the name that had fallen silently from Murata's lips that he probably wasn't supposed to see... the unfathomable look on Conrad's face after that last surprising kiss in the doorway.

 

Murata stirred as they started up the hill toward the shadowy stone towers of Shinou's keep. He gazed up at it for a while, and then turned away with his eyes falling closed again. After a moment, he spoke, so softly that it took Yozak a moment to realize the sage was talking to him.

 

"There's no point in being angry at Shibuya, you know," he said, in that quiet, matter-of-fact way that he had. "It's not his fault he doesn't know."

 

Yozak gritted his teeth and didn't reply. No point being disconcerted by the remark, either, he supposed, or denying how he felt. Trust Murata to notice, and to realize even before he did that what he'd told himself was a passing twinge of fury hadn't subsided as much as he thought.

 

"After all..." Murata continued sleepily, turning his head to tuck more comfortably against Yozak's shoulder, "you've never been angry at Weller-kyo for not seeing how you feel about him, have you?"

 

Yozak caught his breath; he glared down at the kid, but Murata had - apparently - fallen sound asleep as soon as the words drifted out of his mouth.

 

He sighed as he marched along up the hill, and stared up at the Shrine. "Guess you've got a point," he muttered. "Still..."

 

Sneaking into the shrine was not quite as easy as sneaking into and out of the castle, mainly because he'd had a lot more practice at the latter. He wasn't sure he had to bother, since Shinou knew they were coming, but he did it out of habit and just to be sure, anyway.

 

He had to nudge Murata awake enough to tell him the way to his room, though, since he forgot to check into that little detail beforehand. Once there, he lowered the boy onto his bed and stepped back, not sure what else he should do. He bit his lip when Murata hissed sharply in the middle of shrugging out of the cloak, even though he laughed it off and said it was nothing a second later. Yozak decided to wait around a few more minutes anyway, ignoring Murata's sleepy attempt to wave him away.

 

The next thing he knew, Murata was out like a light. All Yozak could do was tuck him in and make sure he was comfortable for now. He squatted down next to the bed, debating in his mind whether he should stay and keep watch, or just leave, or what. He knew Murata usually left Conrad on his own and took care of himself afterward; but that just didn't sit right with him now, to leave him all alone like this after all they'd done.

 

Except, he realized suddenly with a cold shudder running up his spine, Murata was not alone. He looked up into blue eyes, at once fierce and gentle as they stared down at the sleeping sage.

 

"Things must have gone well tonight for my sage to sleep this soundly," Shinou said, making Yozak wonder if the kid usually had trouble sleeping. "I said you would do well at this, didn't I?"

 

Yozak frowned. That would have sounded like a mocking sort of praise, except for the fact that Shinou's soft gaze never left Murata's face. He didn't have an answer, anyway. If Shinou meant that he'd been bound to figure out what was really going on and why they were all doing this, he was right, but that didn't make him appreciate the compliment. He glared, not exactly at anyone or anything in particular, but Shinou seemed to understand the reason for it.

 

"You blame me for what they've both longed for and lost. You're right to, in a way," the spirit sighed. "Daikenja knew. He predicted this, accepted even this, for my sake."

 

Yozak stared up at him, mouth falling open as he realized what Shinou meant. Daikenja's whole plan led to and included this: that Murata Ken would fall for the one who would save his lover's soul.

 

Shinou soothed his fingers through Murata's hair, watched him sigh in his sleep. The king's blue eyes were filled with sadness that Yozak ever expected to see on that bright warrior's face.

 

"All of this, for me...and yet, I think he only blames himself."

 

Shinou bent down to brush his lips over Murata's forehead and across his lips; a ghostly kiss that was little more substantial than a dream. 

 

"Take care of his heart for me," Shinou said. 

 

He disappeared. Yozak sighed, and left his own kiss on Murata's lips before he turned down the lamp and curled up in the chair next to the bed. His body was not going to like him for this in the morning, but he'd put it through worse for less reason.

 

"Sure, I will," he answered the shadows as he started to drift off to sleep. "Murata Ken's heart, and Conrad's too. Just as much as I can - as much as they'll let me." Just like he always had.

 

He didn't need an assignment, even one from the original king of Shin Makoku himself, to do that. 

 

~~ the end ~~

 


End file.
